


Daisies and Carnations

by america_chavez



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Flower Language, Fluff and Angst, IDOLiSH7 Flash Bang 2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 23:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16842478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/america_chavez/pseuds/america_chavez
Summary: Every Saturday morning, Iori watches a bright haired boy pace the aisles of his parents' flower shop. The boy always makes a sour expression when the change in his pocket can't cover the cose of the most elaborate, most elegant flower arrangement.  Iori doesn't understand why but every time he's forced to watch that pained expression cross over the young boy's face, his chest feels tight. Mitsuki has a good guess as to why.AU where the Izumi parents own a flower shop. Written for the IDOLiSH7 Flash Bang.





	Daisies and Carnations

**Author's Note:**

> I am so grateful to be a part of such an amazing project like this. I struggled for the longest trying to come up with an idea of what to write for this pairing. There were many complications in my personal life that led me to write this fic and while this is a piece written solely for the flash bang, I'd like to dedicate it to my grandmother who very recently was taken from me.
> 
> I'd also like to issue a public apology to my artist, [Abby](https://twitter.com/newroyaloceans), and the mods, who put up how late I submitted my work. Thank you to all of you for being so understanding. I'll leave a link to Abby's full artwork at the end notes.

Every Saturday morning, Iori watches as a blue-haired boy enters the shop. With sleep apparent in his eyes – and clothes, if the wrinkles in them are anything to go by – he lingers in the aisles with the largest arrangements of flowers, counts the change in his pocket and smiles bitterly as he realizes it isn’t enough. He would then approach the help desk and ask whoever was on duty— typically Iori’s parents— which flowers were the cheapest that week. The boy never spent more than 250 yen on a measly flower that drooped sadly.

Iori has never once spoken to the boy, for as long as his parents have let him help around the shop. Whether good or bad luck, someone else always seems to be on register duty whenever the boy visits. The boy, Iori notices, looks no more older than he, though his height makes him seem older, and a bit intimidating. Despite never interacting with the boy, Iori comes to find comfort in the boy’s visits, no matter how short. His visits make Iori think that maybe true love and dedication to one person does exist, even for people as young as them.

* * *

  
On a non-specific Saturday afternoon, Iori is handling the register when the bell at the front of his parent’s store chimes. Mitsuki greets the customer, who is out of Iori’s view, before being whisked away by another shop regular. Their parents had left them in charge for a few hours as they ran errands needed for their small business, which seemed to grow more as time passed.

Iori watches as the blue-haired boy approaches his typical aisle and lingers in the middle or it, as if carefully selecting the bouquet of the week. He watches the boy walk back and forth between the aisle, eyes focusing on a particular bouquet. Iori calculates that in total, the arrangement would cost the boy approximately 5,000 yen; a large sum of money for a high school boy.

As the boy counts the money in his pocket and wallet, Iori predicts the bitter expression that fixes on his face as the boy realizes that yet again, he’s short. Iori feels his heart ache, the twisting expression on the boy’s face the source of his hurt.

When Mitsuki finishes helping the shop regular, Iori calls him over, eyes still focusing on the boy who clutches the bouquet tightly, eyes downcast.

“What is it, Iori?” Mitsuki asks, eyes knitted in concern. Iori has only been on the receiving end of that look only a handful of times, most of them as a young child.

“That boy,” Iori says in a hushed voice, “He comes here every Saturday. He always buys our near-wilting flowers because he can’t afford anything else.”

Mitsuki turns to where the boy stands and watches as he slowly places the bouquet back in its original holder. “You want to help him?” Mitsuki askes, eyes not leaving the boy’s figure.

Unable to verbally respond, Iori simply nods. Watching from the corner of his eye, Mitsuki takes that confirmation and hops over the counter separating them from the boy. Iori berates him, telling him it looks unprofessional in their work setting. Mitsuki ignores him.

“Hey there! Is there anything I can help you with?” Mitsuki asks as he approaches the boy.

Startled, the boy looks up from the bouquet he’s returning towards the voice.

“I wanna buy some flowers.”

Mitsuki chuckles, “I see. Are there any particular flowers you’re interested?”

The boy points at the bouquet he had been handling earlier, “These. They’re pretty. She likes pretty flowers.”

“She? A girl?”

The boy nods, “Her favorite colors are red and white.”

“I see. Is it for a girlfriend? A friend?”

The boy shakes his head but doesn’t elaborate.

Mitsuki nods slowly, taking in the information, and thinks about how he could help this desperate looking boy that’s moved his little brother’s heart. After some thought, Mitsuki speaks again, “Would you like this specific arrangement or something similar around your price range? We can look at some different options first, if you’d like.”

The boy seems to brighten at the possibility of purchasing flowers that didn’t look like they’d die before he took them home. He nods and follows Mitsuki around the shop, observing which arrangements were around his price range and others that weren’t.

“We also have a Flower of the Month special. Every month we discount the price of arrangements and bouquets for a specific flower. We are currently in March, so our flower of the month is the Daffodil.” Mitsuki points to a stand, filled of bouquets of Daffodil. “We have single flowers, which are 200 yen each, or a small bouquet of three that would be 550 yen. We also have—”

“I’ll take those!” The boy shouts, startling Mitsuki. “I think she would like to see new flowers every month.”

Mitsuki nods enthusiastically, “Okay. We can do that.” Mitsuki walks over to the stand of Daffodils, “Okay, let’s choose which bouquet you want today.”

The boy walks around the stand and runs his fingers through the yellow petals of the Daffodils. He pulls out a small bouquet consisting of only three flowers, priced at exactly what he has in his pockets. The boy’s smile dazzles Mitsuki as he holds up the small bouquet, “This one.”

Mitsuki responds with a smile of his own and they make their way towards the register where Iori watches them with a neutral expression. Mitsuki is just about to hop the counter again when a customer walks over to the help desk. He leans over the counter and whispers, “Only charge him 550 yen, it’s what I told him it would cost.”

Iori is about to protest that they’re not allowed to give discounts when Mitsuki turns to the help the impatient looking customer and he is left alone with the boy, who gives him a curious look.

“I feel like I know you,” The boy says, leaning over the counter to take a good look at Iori.

Iori feels his face heat in embarrassment, “If you could please refrain from leaning into our workplace, it would be highly appreciated.”

“Oh.” The boy takes a step back. “Sorry,” He says as he places the bouquet on the counter.

“That’ll be ten thousand and fifty—,” From a distance, he hears Mitsuki clear his throat, “I apologize, I misread. Your total will be 500 yen.”

The boys looks bewildered, “But I thought Mikki said—”

Iori interjects, “Mikki?”

The boy nods, “Yes. Mikki. The guy who was helping me? Come on, Iorin, catch up.”

Iori feels his ears burn. “Please do not assign me nicknames I do not approve of,” He huffs.

“Ah.”

Iori looks up quizzically.

“I made Iorin mad.”

Iori fumes. “Are you going to buy these flowers or not?” He asks just as Mitsuki is returning, earning a bewildered look from the elder.

“Iori, that’s no way to speak to a customer!” Mitsuki scolds him.

“N-nii-san, it’s not—” Iori stutters.

“Ah, Mikki it’s fine!” The boy assures, “I know Iorin isn’t trying to be mean!”

Mitsuki’s eyebrows shoot up. “Mikki? Iorin?”

The boy simply smiles. “Friends help each other, right?”

Iori and Mitsuki nod, not understanding where the conversation is heading.

“So, Iorin and Mikki helped me picked some cheap flowers. And friends also give each other nicknames.” He points to Iori and Mitsuki’s name tags, “Iorin and Mikki.”

The brothers go bright red, touched at the boy’s conclusion.

“We were only doing our jobs,” Iori huffs.

Mitsuki chuckles, “Aw c’mon _Iorin_ , don’t be so hard on him.”

“N-nii-san!” Iori’s blush deepens. “We don’t even know his name. We can’t be friends with all of our customers.”

Mitsuki cocks an eyebrow. “Who says we can’t be friends with our customers?”

The boy and Mitsuki laugh as Iori sputters, unable to answer his brother’s question.

“If you wanted to know my name, you could have just asked,” The boy points out, earning another glare from Iori and a chuckle from Mitsuki.

“Yotsuba Tamaki” He grins. “Nice to meet ya.”

An alarm goes off and Tamaki startles. He looks at his wrist watch and shouts. “Ah! I’m gonna be late!” He slams his money on the counter and takes the bouquet of daffodils and sprints towards the exit.

“Bye Iorin! Bye Mikki!” He shouts from the front door, before running out and waving at them from outside.

Iori and Mitsuki wave back, a little confused. The resume their duties around the shop, both in a daze from their interaction with Tamaki. Iori spends the rest of his day thinking about the boy, occasionally looking over to their stand of daffodils. He can’t believe how absurd Tamaki’s claims of forming a friendship with him and his brother. After all, he and Mitsuki were only doing their jobs.

Mitsuki watches Iori, noting the way he keeps looking over at their monthly display, and smiles. Maybe Tamaki’s friendship will help Iori loosen up.

* * *

  
As the March cold turns into a chill April breeze, Tamaki continues to visit the shop as usual and his greetings get louder with each visit, much to Iori’s dismay. After meeting Iori and Mitsuki’s parents and quickly gaining their approval, Tamaki begins to visit the shop earlier to spend time with Mitsuki and Iori before sprinting out, claiming he’ll be late for an event he never discloses.

Outside, the cherry blossoms begin to bloom, the beginning of the new school year approaching fast. His parents begin to lower his work hours as he prepares to enter his second year in high school. Tamaki makes an off-hand comment about being in the same grade as him, but Iori decides not to ask more. Iori assumes he won’t divulge more information for a particular reason, and he soon finds himself to be correct.

At the opening ceremony, Iori spies a familiar head of blue hair but he’s quickly swept away by other classmates before Iori can reach out to him. He spends the rest of the ceremony looking out for the blue head of hair instead of paying attention to the principal. It isn’t until they’re all dismissed to find out their homeroom class that he confirms it. Towards the bottom of the list, just a few names down from his own, sits the name _Yotsuba Tamaki_.

“We got into the same class, Iorin!”

Iori jumps at the boy’s shouts. “Yotsuba-san, why didn’t you tell me we went to the same school!”

Tamaki’s grin widens. “I thought it’d be a nice surprise for my favorite person.”

Iori feels his heart tug, his brain short-circuiting with Tamaki’s statement.

Tamaki tugs on Iori’s arm, wrinkling his uniform. Iori is about to reprimand him when Tamaki cuts him off, “Iorin, let’s go to the arcade!”

Iori has no time to respond, he’s reluctantly being dragged off by the much stronger, much taller teen. They spend the rest of the afternoon in the arcade, many of the expenses left to Iori as Tamaki admits he only has enough to cover the flowers he’ll be purchasing later in the weekend.

They make a habit of going to the arcade after school. That is, as long as Tamaki keeps his grades up and actually studies and completes his homework during their free study period. Iori holds him to that promise. The summer months go by in a breeze and they continue to see each other every Saturday morning, like clockwork.

Until that clock breaks.

* * *

  
Iori deems the day a typical Monday morning. The early-September breeze chills him as he waits patiently at the school gate for Tamaki. The first warning bell chimes brightly, and Iori fidgets uncomfortably, looking around for a familiar shade of blue. When the second bell chimes, Iori walks to class alone, occasionally looking back towards the gates which are set to close soon.

Tamaki doesn’t show up the next day. Or the next. Or the rest of the week.

Iori feels anxious over the boy’s absence, even when Mitsuki reassures him he may only be sick. Iori tries to convince himself that the tightening in his chest at the thought of Tamaki is just him worrying about a friend. Saturday rolls around, and the shop feels empty without the young boy’s boisterous voice vibrating within. Two weeks, then a month goes by and no one has heard a thing about Tamaki. Mitsuki realizes Iori is on the verge of crashing, he sees it in the way he trembles whenever the entrance bell chimes. He helps his brother search the arcade they would often hang around, in hopes of reuniting his brother with the boy. He hears the choked sobs Iori releases once behind closed doors. He watches the light Tamaki had once put in his kid brother’s eyes dim as time goes by.

Mitsuki discusses the circumstances with their parents but there’s nothing they can really do. The only thing they know about the boy is that he goes to school with Iori, that he’s named Yotsuba Tamaki and that he left in the same manner he had come into the shop; silent and unsuspecting.

Hoping to keep Iori’s mind off of things, their parents send Iori to run errands for them. This time around they’ve let him organize the new Flower of the Month stand. Reluctantly, Iori throws the wilting September asters away and replaces them with bright, bold bouquets of October’s marigolds. Mitsuki realizes his parent’s mistake when he catches Iori near tears, a wilting aster in his left hand, a blooming marigold in his right. The bright pink aster represents a development Mitsuki had not expected in the relationship between the two high school boys: powerful love.

“Do you know what marigolds represent?” Iori says, his voice trembling with unshed tears.

 _Yes_ , Mitsuki thinks. He keeps quiet instead, waiting for his brother to continue.

“Some believe they represent undying love and a Japanese autumn.” He pauses to wipe away a stray tear. “Others say they represent sympathy. Or sadness.” He throws away the last wilting batch of asters. “I can only agree with the last one.”

Iori opens his mouth to say something more but the entrance bell chimes, and he full out flinches when he hears it. He looks up from the stand he’s working on, desperately hoping to find the boy he hasn’t heard word of in weeks at the door.

And he does.

A glass vase shatters behind the cash register. Iori assumes it’s Mitsuki’s doing but he refuses to look away from the blue haired boy that stands in the entrance of the Izumi flower shop. He’s grounded in his spot, even as arms wrap around him in a tight embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” the boy chokes out. His tears run hot down his face, puffy eyes giving away just how long the boy has been crying. Iori feels the dam in his heart break and he openly sobs into the boy’s chest. His shouts are muffled by Tamaki’s sweater, but Mitsuki has a vague idea of what he’s saying.

Mitsuki overhears Tamaki whisper “I’m sorry,” over and over until Iori’s sobs subside.

Iori’s voice sounds gruff when he finally speaks. “You have a lot to explain, Yotsuba-san.”

Tamaki nods. “Can we go somewhere else to talk? I want to be with her when I tell you everything.”

 _Her?_ Iori thinks.

After a moment, Iori looks over to where Mitsuki is observing them. Mitsuki assures Iori it’s fine and the boys exit the shop in silence. Their entire journey is silent, Tamaki only taking the time to walk slow enough for Iori and pointing to where they’re headed. Iori feels his stomach sink as the approach a graveyard, headstones lining inside the gated area.

Tamaki pays his respects to a particular grave before calling Iori over.

“Mom, this is Iorin. The boy I’ve been telling you about.” He holds out his hand for Iori’s. Iori feels his face heat at the gesture but doesn’t hesitate to hold Tamaki’s hand. “He and Mikki help me choose the flowers I bring you every week.”

Iori feels his heart ache. _This_ is the reason Tamaki first showed up at his parent’s shop. This is the girl he brought flowers to every week.

Tamaki squeezes Iori’s hand. “Iorin, this is my mom. She’s not with us anymore but I know she’s looking down at me right now and smiling because I found a good friend.”

Iori clears his throat before speaking, “Is this why you’ve been gone for a month?”

Tamaki nods. “When mom died, my sister Aya and I were put into an orphanage because our dead-beat dad was never around.” Iori’s hand tightens around Tamaki’s. “A couple of weeks after we got there, some rich folk adopted my sister and last month they all disappeared without a trace.”

Iori feels his heart ache once more. He’s thrown off when Tamaki begins to smile. “It took me a month, but I finally found her. She’s safe with her family and they’re gonna let me see her every weekend.”

Iori releases a sigh. “I’m happy for you, Yotsuba-san.”

“Wait, I’m not finished.” He takes a big breath before continuing, “I had a nightmare last night. I thought it was a dream at first because Mom and Aya were with me, but you weren’t. Whenever I brought you up, people would tell me you weren’t with us anymore and that I needed to get over you. I didn’t like that. I wasn’t happy with just Mom and Aya anymore. I wanted you to be there with me, Iorin.”

Tamaki rummages through his bag and pulls out two flowers— a white carnation and a daisy— tied together by a single red ribbon and holds them out to Iori.

“I really like you Iorin. When they told me Aya was gone, I freaked out thinking I had lost the last person in my family but then I met you and Mikki and you became my family. You became the person I wanted to see every day and the person I wanted to make the happiest.”

Iori’s heart beats rapidly in his chest as his brain processes everything that’s happened. He takes everything into perspective. Their afternoons at the arcade could easily have doubled as dates between the boys. The hand holding, the soft whispers of goodnight before returning home. The mountains of plush toys Tamaki had won for him over the summer. The warm feeling Iori would get in his chest whenever Tamaki smiled brightly at him. He thinks back at the marigolds he had been organizing just an hour prior to their meeting. To the first meaning he had described to his older brother.

He takes the flowers out of Tamaki’s hands.

“Yotsuba-san…”

Cheeks aflame, Tamaki looks at Iori.

“I like you, too.”  
  


* * *

**Author's Note:**

> [Link to original tweet and full art](https://twitter.com/newroyaloceans/status/1069954978125475844). Abby can also be found on tumblr [here](https://newroyaloceans.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Flower meanings explained:  
> Daffodil - birth flowers for March. Symbolizes new birth, beginnings, happiness and joy.  
> Asters - birth flower for September. Symbolizes a strong and powerful love, faith and wisdom.  
> Marigolds - birth flowers for October. Symbolizes undying love, "I'm thinking of you", sadness or sympathy.  
> Carnation - birth flowers for January. Different colors convey different meanings. White: pure love.  
> Daisy - birth flowers for April. Symbolize beauty, innocence, love, purity or a secret.
> 
> Comments and kudos would be appreciated!
> 
> Let's be friends! Talk to me on Twitter: [@yumeIove](https://twitter.com/yumeIove)!


End file.
